"I'm leaving for work," my wife comes around to my side of the king size bed and leans in to kiss me.
If it's not a king size bed, it feels like one. For some reason, it feels different in the summer - falling into our bed is like doing a trust fall into an oasis of feathers that don't itch, but massage all of your muscles and sore spots. And it's not weird because they're feathers, not the hands of a leper.
I look on my phone that never made it to the nightstand last night; fortunately, I did plug it in before my eyes became too heavy to stay awake.
6:58am.
I would have already gotten out of the shower and dabbing my neck with cologne if it were just another average Thursday morning workday. But it's not an average Thursday morning workday - it's summer. My mind faintly recalls a time when waking up before this time was not only possible, but frequently accomplished, but my eyelids don't remember and don't care. Back to bed I go.
Summer break Thursdays for non-working teachers hit different, and every summer, I am one of them. Two years into my teaching career, I was content not working over summers, mainly for health reasons (pouring myself into my career for 180 school days can be grueling and time consuming for most of the school year), but partially because my summer breaks consist of six short weeks of vacation. The school I spent a majority of my career teaching in operated on a year-round schedule, where our fall, winter, and spring breaks are stretched out an extra week while our summer breaks are shorter than the other schools in the area and in general. Therefore, it wouldn't make much sense to me to work elsewhere for six weeks and then jump right back into another school year.
The moment day one of summer break begins, my wife wakes me every morning to kiss me just like my body kisses early mornings goodbye as I melt into the gigantic bed. During the school year, the roles are reversed as I am often the one waking her up. I often wonder during the summer weeks if I have any control over waking up earlier than 8am, though. Even sitting up to kiss my wife goodbye on a summer break feels like my head is filled with concrete and my lips have been in Han Solo's Cryo Freeze chamber for the first 30 years of my existence.
The best my body can give me before 8am on summer mornings is five minutes - enough time to mumble my well-wishes and encouragement to my wife as she departs for work right after kissing her goodbye, feed the dogs if my second half hasn't already done so, and play half of Wordle on my phone before going back to bed and sleeping through three alarms.
I joke that I "took a nap until 10am" to convince myself that I didn't sleep in as if the five minutes I was up before my wife left for work counted as being awake. Though I joke about this version of Josh, I actually hate dealing with my half-dead body over the summer.
Every school year, I have two or three kids in my class who will sit in the back of the room, with their elbow resting on their desk and their arm stretching up to their chin where their hand rests. Their not listening, but looking at the top of my head as if a giant cockroach were on it playing a fiddle in front of an audience of children cockroaches. They might not be imagining a musically talented cockroach playing fiddler on the forehead, but they're certainly not focusing on learning about the area of an irregular shape.
Once summer begins and my body tells me there's no reason to wake up early, I become that daydreaming student. My mind drifts to what it would feel like to wake up at 7:30 and spend my summer day being productive from sunup to sundown. Instead, my body disconnects from what my mind wants and wakes up at 10:30 - at that point, my wife has 2.5 hours of work under her belt. Can you imagine what could be done with 2.5 hours, other than sleep?
Give yourself a break, Josh; it's ok to sleep in every once in a while. The problem is, dear reader, is this happens EVERY DAY of summer. Eventually my mind and body have to be sick of it and use the summer to wake up when normal working adults wake up.
After having an ounce of empathy for me, your next thought might be to change your sleep schedule. Go to bed earlier! You say, going into problem-solving mode as if I didn't think of this concept before. I have tried this idea, and on top of that, I have also gone to bed past 1am on a worknight - doesn't matter, you can't convince my summer break brain to wake up before 8am if it doesn't have to. I have taught a full day of school on 3 hours of sleep before - I wouldn't recommend making a habit out of this, but it's in these moments I note that it has nothing to do with what time I go to bed, but what time of the year it is.
If I'm being honest with myself, I sometimes feel this way spiritually too. I tell myself I will kickstart my relationship with God the same I would a 2008 Toyota Camry with a bad battery. If I just open my Bible to the right book, read the right chapter from the right Christian book, listen to the right podcast, or find the right friend to confide in at the right coffee shop, I will successfully replace the bad battery in my life with a new one that will make my walk with Jesus better.
Me next to my 2008 Toyota Camry in 2018
Or worse. I sleep in. I get it, we all need sleep. If you need a swift reminder of this fact, go back to your college days when you were often confused about what your degree was in because you were a master at pulling all-nighters. Forget your bachelor's degree, you were getting your PHD in managing your life on an average of 28 minutes of sleep.
Like any habit, our bodies, mind, and behavior normalize what we commit to focusing on in our lives. When I was in college, I normalized getting through the day on minimal sleep because I did it so often. The worse part about getting minimal sleep is not necessarily the physical effects, but the gravitational pull this habit has on you when it becomes a daily occurrence. Once you're neck-deep in the habit, you fail to recognize the unhealthy effect it has on you unless someone uses their entire being to pull it out of you.
Though the literal act of sleeping is a necessity, Paul warns us of the effect of using God's promise of salvation as a reason to shrug off the significance of spiritual practices. Why? Because our fight is not against flesh and blood, but something much more powerful. If you were a soldier in the middle of war and you decided to grab a few Zs, you would not only be a threat to your comrades, but you would put your own life and the mission at risk as well.
According to 1 Thessalonians 5:6-8, "Therefore let us not sleep, as others do, but let us watch and be sober." When we consider the context of who Paul is writing to - the church in Thessalonica - it makes sense. As we live under the protection of the knowledge of our salvation, we can easily become apathetic towards building a habit out of spiritual practices. I already believe in God and I am confident of my place in Heaven, we are prone to think. Matthew Henry Commentary tells us this should be a primary reason to not slacken in our walk with Christ: "...If we have hope in salvation, let us take heed of any thing that would shake our trust in the Lord."
As someone who has a distaste for early mornings (according to my body), the biggest draw towards sleeping in is the comfort of my silk pillow, the warm blanket, and the soft mattress my body rests on. If it were a school day, and I allowed my desire to sleep in to trump my responsibilities as an educator, I would jeopardize my current position and potentially my career altogether because of my inability to show up, let alone prepare for, the students I am about to teach that day. Me prioritizing sleep over career would categorize me as ineffective in a field where so many children, parents, and co-workers are counting on me to be distinguished at what I do. Furthermore, if I shrugged off sleeping through my responsibilities with the excuse that I hope my kids can learn on their own without my assistance, I would most certainly be fired from my job and probably never get a good recommendation for the next one.
Similarly, if I rely too heavily upon the hope of my salvation and do not respond to this hope with faithfulness and allegiance to my duty as a Christ-follower - a disciple - I am sleeping on the job. Hope, used properly, partners with preparation in action. And what does hope look like in action? By how we live in community with others as ambassadors of the Truth. Our motivation, if not just to keep ourselves in pursuit of our connection with God, should be to "set a good example one before another" (Matthew Henry Commentary) and to encourage one another in preparation for Christ's return (See Hebrews 10:24-25). How can we help one another stay the course when we're using our time sleeping instead of staying prepared and focused on our duty as Christ-followers? Similar to the phrase, "I can't take care of you if I can't take care of myself," we need diligently stay awake in our faith in order to encourage others in theirs.
Hebrews 6:12 does an excellent job of summarizing the power of community and our duty to be wide awake in our spiritual walk into one succinct statement: "We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised." In other words, don't let apathy prevent you from following in the footsteps of the faithful before us by imitating them in order to inherit what was promised to us.
So, how do we avoid becoming another victim of spiritual sleep paralysis?
First, we must recognize and admit that the battle is bigger than the physical. Ephesians 6:12 - "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."
Second, we actively develop healthy habits that Jesus did to prepare ourselves for the bigger war being fought; Jesus fasted, Jesus prayed, Jesus spent time in the community and with his closest friends (he didn't isolate himself), Jesus remained obedient to God, and Jesus let the Word of God drive his mission (see Matthew 4 when he is tempted). In other words, do what Jesus did while he walked the earth.
Third, do not give up! Often, I connect my circumstances to God's goodness rather than connect God's goodness to my circumstances. Our circumstances change like the weather - God is unchanging. Paul made it clear to the church of Galatia how he, Titus, and Barnabas and fought the spiritual war: "...we did not give up and submit to these people ['false brothers'] for even a moment" (Galatians 2:5). They did not give up, according to Paul, because they had a purpose, which was to preserve the Gospel for the Galatians. If we remain true to who we are under the eternal protection and unconditional love of Christ, not allowing our circumstances to sway our faith, we will be "strong and immovable" (1 Corinthians 15:58) in our allegiance to Christ.
Like most aspects of our life, our decisions are a part of the cause-and-effect cycle. All of our reactions and responses are a result of the previous experiences we've had. Therefore, if we make our daily life decisions and place them through the filter of these three steps, the Holy Spirit will help us remain sober, vigilant, and diligent to our duty as disciples of Jesus.
Consider what Paul said to the Ephesians:
"'Wake up, sleeper. Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine upon you.' Be careful, then, how you live - not as unwise, but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil."
So, the choice is yours. Will you sleep through your responsibilities, or embrace them and allow God to take you on an adventure with him?